


tale of the stone

by bonebo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Reyes/Reaper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 01:38:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14801897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebo/pseuds/bonebo
Summary: McCree finds the omnic sitting out on the cliffs of Gibraltar, legs folded and head bowed in meditation, caught in the glow of the dying sunlight.Just seeing him is enough to put his anxious mind at ease--he doesn’t know exactly why, but Zenyatta’s presence has been a balm to McCree’s frazzled mind lately, something easy and low-effort to upkeep during the whirlwind of chaos and old-new faces that has been Overwatch’s latest reunion.





	tale of the stone

McCree finds the omnic sitting out on the cliffs of Gibraltar, legs folded and head bowed in meditation, caught in the glow of the dying sunlight.

Just seeing him is enough to put his anxious mind at ease--he doesn’t know exactly why, but Zenyatta’s presence has been a balm to McCree’s frazzled mind lately, something easy and low-effort to upkeep during the whirlwind of chaos and old-new faces that has been Overwatch’s latest reunion.

McCree hasn’t even noticed that he’s walking toward the monk until he’s only a few steps away, and then he berates himself for being so rude: clearly the omnic is already busy. The last thing he needs is Jesse bothering him--

But then Zenyatta glances over his shoulder. “Hello, Jesse. Why don’t you have a seat?”

Pinned in place by that soft voice, Jesse feels like a butterfly on a board; and how is he supposed to do anything but obey? He sinks down into the grass beside the omnic and folds his legs, taking a second to just breathe and bask in the warm sunlight, the gentle, salty breeze.

“Tell me what troubles you, my friend,” Zenyatta says, and his voice is so soothing; Jesse’s expected some kind of dismissal, the harsh rebuke that usually follows his whining, and when he’s given nothing but the monk’s unassuming aura he finds himself floundering.

“I’m--I’m fine. Nothin’ troublin’ me,” Jesse says, trying to inject some kind of chipper cheer into his voice. 

By the way Zenyatta turns and blankly stares at him, he knows he’s been caught.

“Well...maybe I’ve been having a rough time lately,” he admits, hesitant and uncertain. “Finding out about Reyes being this Reaper character...that’s a helluva thing.”

“He was your mentor?”

“Yes...but more than that, too,” Jesse says, letting his gaze drop down and plucking at the grass beneath his boots. “Reyes was...he was somethin’ else, back in the day. A legend. There was nothing that man couldn’t do, and I mean--hell, I wasn’t the only one on the team that looked up to him, I can’t have been--”

“But you feel guilty now,” Zenyatta cuts in, his voice far more gentle than anything McCree deserves directed at him. “For leaving. You feel like you could have stopped him, turned him off the path he currently walks. Like you owed it to him.”

“I…” Jesse trails off, then blows out a sigh, making his bangs flutter. “Yeah. I guess. I could’ve tried, at least. Been there for him, so he didn’t feel alone…”

“You have no way of knowing if that could have helped him.” Zenyatta reaches over and lays a hand on McCree’s knee. “Consider the ocean--the pounding waves. They are destined for the shore, and what happens to the boulder that stands in their way?” He pauses to let McCree consider the answer, waits long enough to hear the noise of the water crashing into the rocks below. 

“It does nothing to stop the wave, but is hurt in the process. Lost, a little at a time.”

He glances up then, his head tilting a little to the side. “I think that you are just now finding yourself, Jesse. And I would hate to imagine what could have happened, if you did not take the steps needed to preserve the pieces of yourself that you have now.”

Jesse can only shrug--he doesn’t know what might have happened, either. But sitting here now, on the shores of the Watchpoint with only Zenyatta and the crashing waves to break the silence of oncoming dusk, he can’t find it in himself to care too much.


End file.
